What would you say if I told you that my grand-mother used to make the best meringues? Probably that yours did as well, because we all have a sense that someone in our family or amongst our acquaintances makes “the best of something you have ever had”. For example, P. has an Irish uncle, a friendly bloke who lives in a cute village by the sea close to Dublin, who loves to go fishing — and always catches something according to him — and likes to talk about food at length, especially to tell me the same French story every time I see him, on how expensive lobster was when he traveled to La Rochelle in France many years ago. He also adds that he makes the best jam. Yes, just like this. It always brings a smile to my face but I love his stories and his jams as a matter of fact. So when I say that my grand-mother used to make the best meringues, it might really sound cliché and banal. But the truth is that in my eyes, she really did. She died when I was too young, and I only wished I could still taste her meringues, her saucisson sec and her fries cut in a playful twirly shape cooked in végétaline (a vegetal cooking oil). They tasted like nothing else.

With this in mind, there was never the need for me to make meringues since whenever we visited my grand-mother Marie, we used to bring an endless supply of them home. I have rarely made meringues, but thought I would change this as a good friend of ours came for dinner a few days ago. On top of having a pretty large sweet tooth, I knew that she loved them.

I decided to make pavlovas, to make our dessert look more festive. Dessert does not always need to be complicated to be fulfilling.

I have rarely eaten pavlovas. My first time was actually only a few years ago, when P. and I went for dinner to a couple of our friends’. I was truly delighted to encounter this dessert for the first time. They served theirs with plain whipped cream topped with blackberries. In view of my current pomegranate phase, I thought of making mine slightly different, going into a white and red theme. There is no particularly reason to explain it besides that it gave me a great opportunity to try meringues, which I had not cooked in quite a while.

Meringues could not be simpler. They really only require two ingredients:

Egg whites

Sugar

The trick about meringues is to determine when they are done. My grand-mother used to make hers hard and crispy. I like mine softer inside and crispier outside — just like pavlova meringues typically are. Depending on what your prefer, you will have to adjust the cooking time, prolonging it if you want them crispier, or shortening it otherwise. The cooking time I give here made for crispy meringues. I also wanted to flavor the whipped cream with orange, because I have always loved the association of raspberries with this flavor. Adding a touch of cardamom made it spicier. In many ways, you can simply customize them according to your preferred taste.

We topped ours with extra cream and fruit, adding more each time we were running out. My friend F. was so impressed with the dessert that she ate two — it is easy though as I am sure she could make a meal with desserts only — taking home the additional meringues I had made. She added that she was going to have them for breakfast the following day. “Dis-moi, tu es bien brave !” (You are brave), I told her when she was about to leave. I am not sure whether I could personally do this, but again, I am not much of a sweet tooth in the morning. F. went home on a sugar high, content as one can be. As to me, deep inside, I knew one thing: I would have made my grand-mother happy too.

Red and Orange Pavlovas

(For 6 small pavlovas)

You need:

The Meringue

3 medium-sized egg whites

3.5 oz fine sugar

1 dash of salt

The Fruit

5 to 7 oz fresh raspberries and pomegrenate seeds

Juice of 1 lime

2 Tbsp fine sugar

1 orange zest

The Orange Whipped Cream

2/3 cup cold heavy cream

2 tsp fine sugar

1/2 tsp pure orange extract

Dash of cardamom powder

Steps:

Preheat your oven at 210 F.

Place the egg whites with a pinch of salt in a bowl. Start to beat them, and after 1 mn, add 2 tbsp of sugar before progressively adding the rest. The egg whites should be firm and form nice shiny peaks.

Take a baking sheet and cover it with parchment paper. Divide the egg whites between 6 little nests and place them in the oven for 1 hour 45 mns to 2 hours. Then turn off the oven and leave the meringue for 1 hour (this makes for crispier meringues, if you like them less cooked, shorten the cooking and resting times, check regularly by touching the meringues). Remove them and let them cool on a cooling rack.

When you are about to serve, mix together the fruit with the lime juice and sugar.

To serve, take one meringue and make a little indent in the middle before adding whipped cream and topping with fruit, and candied orange zests (orange zests cooked in a syrup made of sugar and water).

42 comments

Meringues that looked just like that were a standard dessert made by my mother in Illinois when I was a child in the 1940’s and 50’s. We usually had them with strawberries and vanilla ice cream. I haven’t made them for years, but am inspired to do so now. Lovely photographs!

I can honestly say that no-one in my family has EVER made good meringues. My grandma included. I suspect that is why I have always been afraid to try, much though I love them. Maybe it’s time to start…

Lucy is right, you do write with a very beautiful voice but I think I’ve heard it before just not quite as strong and deep. At least for me “adding more each time we were running out” really was like a hug from my mom who had a wonderful story that centered on just that idea.
No, dessert does not always need to be complicated to be fulfilling. It does need to touch our hearts and this one really does.
I love the red spoons! Wish I could dip one in and keep adding more.
Lovely.

Absolutely everything thing about this post is suberb, the photos, the colors and food combination, the story and most of all the sentiment. Working for many years as a pastry chef, people always walked into my kitchen and ooh and ahhed about the tempting offerings, but usually the main focus was the aroma. Then I would hear lovely stories about their grandmothers this and that and how it made them feel and how that aroma brought back such happy memories. This post evoked the same reaction for me without the lovely aroma. Grazie for the memory.

Pasticciera, that is so nice of you to say. We have to cherish and feel so thankful to have been able to have grandmothers or mothers that taught us so much. I know that my love of food all started there!

Karen, thank you! I think you are right, this dessert is such a light sensual treat.

Jules, yes you are probably right. I am ready from Australia or New Zealand, and ahah, you two countries must have your internal “fight” to claim the origin 😉 I would love to see yours. I am sure it would look divine!

Mae, thanks. I am also on a red mode 😉

Brilynn, thanks.

Krista, I bet you would!

Carol, yes you are right, AUstralians are the masters, but I am trying as well 😉

Béatrice Peltre is a food writer, stylist and photographer working out of her home studio in Boston.
She is a regular contributor to the Boston Globe Food Section, and her work has appeared in many publications
such as Saveur, Food and Wine, Whole Living, Fine Cooking, the Wall Street Journal, NPR, the Huffington Post,
the Washington Post, the Chicago Tribune, Edible Boston, Living France, the New York Times Diner’s Journal,
and in many other international magazines.